Gambit's Moving Castle
by I Run With Sporks
Summary: Having been born the eldest of three, Marie was resigned to a boring life before accidentally getting herself cursed by a very angry witch. Now trapped in the body of an old woman, her best bet at getting herself UNcursed involves meeting the witch head on, making a bargain with a fire demon, and serving as housekeeper to the Heartless Wizard Gambit without strangling him.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER**

 **I own neither Howl's Moving Castle nor X Men Evolution (I can't believe I just typed that, dear lord what is my life coming to) and I am not, in any way, trying to take credit for either work. I just had an idea for an AU that I'll probably abandon four chapters in, knowing my work ethic. Ugh...**

In the land of Ingary, where such things as curses and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is a serious misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you're the one who'll fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortune.

Anna-Marie Logan was the eldest of three children.

She wasn't even the daughter of a poor woodcutter, which might have given her _some_ chance of success. Her parents did well for themselves, and kept a hat shop in the prosperous town of Bayville. Her own mother died when Marie was two years old and her brother Bobby was one, and their father had then married an old friend of his, a striking redhead named Raven- who was not exactly motherhood material, but did her best nonetheless.

Raven shortly gave birth to Marie's second brother, Kurt- which logically should have made Marie and Bobby Ugly Older Siblings- but Marie and Bobby both grew up nicely, and Kurt (Though decidedly strange looking) was quite charming when he wanted to be.

Despite his difficulty expressing it, Logan was, in his own gruff way, proud of his children and made a point of sending them to the best schools he could find. Marie, over at her girl's school was the most studious. She read a great deal and very soon realized how little chance she had of an interesting future.

It was a bitter disappointment at the time, but she managed to make the best of it, swallowing down her envy. Raven was usually busy in the shop, so when she wasn't at school, it was left to Marie to look after Bobby and Kurt. There was always a certain amount of yelling and wayward punches between the younger two. Bobby was by no means resigned to being the one who (After Marie) was bound to be the least successful.

"It's not _fair!_ " Bobby spat, glaring at Kurt, and then Marie for good measure. "Why does he get the best of everything just because he was born last? You watch, I'll marry a princess, so there!"

Kurt, putting on his most obnoxious smile, retorted that _he_ would end up disgustingly rich without having to marry _anybody_ and then sprang out of the way as Bobby tried to hit him again, leaving Marie to (None too gently) drag them apart and grimly attempt to do something about their clothes before Raven noticed. She had no idea why she bothered.

The May Day before the story really starts, people began talking about the Witch of the Waste again. Supposedly, the Witch had threatened the life of the King's daughter, and the King had demanded his personal magician, Sorceress Pryde, to go into the Waste and deal with the Witch permanently.

As it happened, however, Sorceress Pryde had not only failed, she had gotten herself killed. The Witch was highly amused.

So when, a few months later, a tall black castle suddenly appeared on the hills above Bayville, everybody was convinced that the Witch had moved out of the Waste and was ready to terrorize the country the way she had fifty years ago.

People were scared. Nobody went out alone, particularly not at night. What made things even scarier was that the castle didn't stay in the same place- at times it was a tall black smudge on the moors, others it reared above the rocks to the east, and still others it came right downhill to sit in the heather only just beyond the last farm to the north. You could see it moving sometimes, smoke pouring from the turrets in dirty gray gusts.

It looked as if it would come right down into the valley before long. The mayor began talking of sending to the King for help.

But the castle stayed roving about the hills, and it was learned that it did not belong to the Witch, but to Gambit.

The Wizard Gambit was bad enough. Though he didn't seem to want to leave the hills, he was known to amuse himself by collecting attractive young men and women and sucking the souls out of them- or possibly eating there hearts. There was some debate on that point.

The bottom line was that he was an utterly cold blooded and heartless wizard and no one between the ages of seventeen and twenty five was safe if he caught them on their own. Marie, Bobby and Kurt were warned along with every other teenager in town to never go out alone, which was a great annoyance to everyone. On more than one occasion the Logan siblings found themselves trapped inside the house in deep discussion as to what the Wizard Gambit might do with the souls he collected.

They soon had other things on their minds as Logan died abruptly just as Marie was old enough to officially leave school. The family discovered shortly afterward that he might have been a little _too_ proud of his children. School had not been cheap, and the shop was now sinking under impressive debt.

When the funeral was over, Raven sat down in the parlor above the shop and explained the situation, nursing a glass of something strong smelling that reminded Marie unpleasantly of turpentine.

"You'll all have to leave school, I'm afraid," Raven told them tiredly. "I've been doing sums all day, and the only way I can see to keep the business going AND take care of you three is to get you apprenticed somewhere. We just can't afford having all three of you in the shop. So," she paused to take a long draught from her glass before making a face and putting it back down. "This is what I've decided. Bobby first-"

Bobby looked up. It had always been an established fact that he was the most handsome of the three Logan children, and it remained apparent even through sorrow and black clothes.

"I want to keep learning."

"And you will," said Raven, attempting a smile for the first time that day. "I've arranged for you to be apprenticed to Daniels, the pastry cook in the market square. They're known for treating their learners like royalty, so you should be happy there _and_ learn a useful trade. Mrs. Daniels has always been a good customer- she's agreed to squeeze you in as a favor."

Bobby laughed in a way that told Marie he was not at all pleased, but managed not to be sarcastic. "Thanks. Lucky I like cooking, isn't it?"

Raven, not seeming to notice his displeasure, gave a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief. Bobby could be awkwardly strong minded at times. "That's settled then. Kurt next.

"I knew this could be tricky, so I gave it some thought and I think I've found something that'll give you a long, quiet apprenticeship and still be useful afterward. Do you remember my friend Moira MacTaggert?"

Kurt, who was prone to fidgeting at the best of times, forced himself to stop drumming his fingers on the table and considered. "Vaguely. I was sick the week she came to visit, but I remember she talked a lot. Isn't she a witch?"

"She is," Raven confirmed, looking pleased he had remembered. "She has a nice house and clients all over the Folding Valley. She's a good woman, Kurt, and I'm sure she'll teach you all she knows. If you're lucky, she might be able to introduce you to some of the higher up people in the capital- you'll be set up for life."

"I don't know." Kurt's hands went still. "We didn't meet face to face, remember? Does she, um... does she know... what exactly to expect?"

It was reasonable to for Kurt to be worried. There had been quite a shock when he was first born and (for a while) some discussion as to whether or not he was actually human.

Kurt had been covered from head to foot in a light dusting of dark blue fur since birth. This would have been odd enough on its own, but combined with yellow eyes, pointed ears, three misshapen on either hand and a _tail..._ well. It was considered very lucky Kurt had been born the youngest of three. As such, his appearance was considered unsettling but acceptable- an added wrinkle for whenever he chose to seek his fortune. Had he been a middle child or (heaven forbid) an eldest, his life might have been a lot shorter.

"Yes you have. You were much too young to remember, but Moira came to help for a while when you were a baby. I even tried to make her your godmother, but she told me I was being ridiculous. It'll be fine."

This was clearly news to Kurt, but he seemed to decide to think about that another time. He nodded, conceding. "All right."

Marie, who had been listening carefully, felt that Raven had worked everything out exactly as it should be. Bobby, as the second child, wasn't likely to come to much so Raven had put him where he might meet a pretty young apprentice and live happily ever after. Kurt, who would probably strike out to seek his fortune, would have magic and rich friends to help him.

As for herself, Marie was fairly certain she knew what was coming. It came as no surprise when Raven turned to her and said "Marie, it seems only right that you inherit the shop when I retire, being the eldest. I've decided to take you as an apprentice myself and give you a chance to learn the trade. What do you think?"

Marie could hardly say she felt resigned to the hat trade. She thanked Raven gratefully.

"That's that, then!" Raven declared, and no more was said.

The next morning, Marie helped Kurt pack his clothes into a box, and the morning after that they all saw him off on the carrier's cart, looking slight and upright and very nervous.

Bobby had refused all offers of help with packing. As soon as the carrier's cart was out of sight, he crammed all his possessions into a pillowcase and paid the neighbor's boot boy a sixpence to transport it via wheelbarrow over to Daniels'. He marched behind the wheelbarrow looking decidedly more cheerful than Marie would have expected, as though shaking the dust from the hat shop off his feet.

The boot boy brought back a scribbled note from Bobby saying he'd put his things in the boy's' dorms and Daniels' seemed fun. A week later a letter arrived from Kurt saying that Ms. MacTaggert was "Very kind, and uses honey in everything. She keeps bees."

That was all Marie heard from her brothers for a while, because she started her own apprenticeship the day Kurt and Bobby left.

Having been a part of it since childhood, Marie already knew the hat trade quite well. There wasn't really much Raven could teach her, except maybe how to get a customer to buy a hat.

"You lead up to the right one," Raven explained airily, arranging a pale blue bonnet on a mannequin. "Show them the ones that won't quite do first, so they know the difference as soon as they put the right one on."

In fact, Marie didn't sell hats very often. Part of the problem was her accent.

For all her academic life, Marie had attended a boarding school run in the southeast- an area whose people carried a distinct drawling accent. Over the years, Marie had unconsciously begun to pick up on it. Now, having finished her education, it floated in and out of her speech, fluctuating with emotion. When she got irritated, her words became nearly unintelligible.

And some of the customers were _very_ irritating.

After a... challenging...first day, Raven set her trimming hats. Marie sat in a small alcove at the back of the shop, sewing roses to bonnets and veiling to velours, lining all of them with silk and arranging wax fruit and ribbons on the outsides. She was good at it. She liked doing it. But she felt isolated and a little dull.

The most interesting thing the day usually had to offer was the talk from the customers. It is remarkably difficult to buy a hat without gossiping. Marie sat in her alcove and stitched and heard that the Mayor wouldn't eat green vegetables, and that the Wizard Gambit's castle had moved around to the cliffs again and really, that man, whisper, whisper, whisper...

The voices always dropped low when speaking of Gambit, but Marie gathered he had caught another girl down the valley last month.

"Bluebeard!" said the whispers, and then became voices again to say that Tabitha Smith was a perfect disgrace the way she did her hair, especially with that face. _That_ was one who would never attract even Gambit, let alone a respectable man. Then there would be a fleeting, fearful whisper about the Witch of the Waste. Marie began to feel that Gambit and the Witch of the Waste ought to get together.

"Clearly they're made for each other. Someone should arrange a match!" She told the hat she was trimming at the moment. The hat did not respond. They never did.

But by the end of the month, the gossip in the shop was suddenly all about Bobby.

Daniels', it seemed, was packed with young ladies from morning to night, each one buying huge quantities of cake and demanding to be served by Bobby. He'd had no less than ten proposals of marriage, ranging in quality from the mayor's daughter to the girl who swept the streets, and had gently turned them all down, saying both he and they were too young to know their own minds.

"I call that sensible of him." Marie said to the bonnet she was pleating silk into.

"I knew he'd been all right," Raven said in tones of great satisfaction upon hearing the news. It occurred to Marie that Raven was glad Bobby wasn't around.

"Bobby's bad for custom," Marie explained to the bonnet, pleating away. "Men don't want their girls buying from him. They look at Bobby and despair- and the girls only come in to see him, they never buy anything."

Marie talked to hats more and more as the weeks went by. There wasn't really anyone else to talk to. Raven spent the day out alternating between bargaining and trying to stir up more custom, and all the assistant, Bessie, wanted to talk about was her wedding plans. Marie got in the habit of putting each hat on its stand, looking almost like a head without a body, and telling them what the bodies under them ought to look like. She flattered them a bit, because one should flatter customers.

"You have mysterious allure," she told one that was all veiling and hidden twinkles. Then to a wide creamy one with roses under the brim- "You are going to have to marry money!" And again to a caterpillar green straw one "You're as young as a spring leaf!"

She told pink bonnets they had dimpled charm and smart hats trimmed with velvet that they were witty. She told the bonnet with mushroom pleated silk that "You have a heart of gold and someone in a high position will see it and fall in love with you."

She felt particularly sorry for that bonnet. It looked so fussy and plain.

Tabitha Smith came into the shop the next day and bought it. Her hair _did_ look a little strange, Marie considered, peeping out of her alcove. It stuck almost straight out around the lower half of her face, and made her chin look boxy. It seemed a pity she had chosen that particular bonnet- but then everyone was buying them around then. The hat trade was picking up, and Raven began saying with a touch of guilt that maybe she hadn't needed to send Bobby and Kurt away after all. At this rate, the four of them might have managed.

There was so much custom as April drew on towards May Day that Marie was forced to put on a demure gray dress and help in the shop, patience or no patience. The week before May Day, someone even came in asking for a mushroom pleated bonnet like Tabitha Smith's- apparently she'd been wearing it the night she met (and proceeded to run off with) the Count of Transia.

That night, as she sewed, Marie admitted to herself that her life was rather dull. Instead of talking to her hats, she began trying them on before making the mistake of looking into the mirror. The gray dress was bad enough, but the pink and green bonnets managed to make everything worse. The mushroom pleated one simply made her look dreary.

"Like an old _maid!_ " Marie exclaimed frustratedly, tossing the bonnet to the floor before slumping back in her chair.

It wasn't as if she wanted to run off with counts like Tabitha Smith, Marie considered, sighing. And she wasn't sure she wanted half the town offering her marriage like Bobby. But she _did_ want _something_ \- she wasn't sure what- more interesting than just trimming hats.

She'd talk to Bobby, Marie decided, straightening up. He'd have some idea of what she needed. She would make time tomorrow and go see him.

She didn't go.

There was always some reason she couldn't. Either she couldn't find the time, or she couldn't find the energy, or it suddenly seemed a great distance to Market Square, or she remembered that on her own she might be in danger from Gambit- every day it seemed more and more difficult to go see her brother. On the third day she put her foot down.

"This is absurd! Market Square is only two streets away! If I run-" Marie threw her hands up in disgust. She had always considered herself nearly as strong minded as Bobby. This wasn't like her at all.

Gathering up her materials, Marie swore to herself she would go down to Daniels' when the shop closed for May Day.

Meanwhile, a new piece of gossip came into the shop. The King had argued with his own sister, Princess Samantha- or so it was said, anyway- and the Princess had gone into exile. It was unclear exactly why they had fought, but their youngest brother Prince Alexander had publicly stated that he wouldn't be taking sides and (Rather boldly, in Marie's opinion) that both his siblings were behaving like children. Had it been anyone else, Marie would have sympathized.

It was also said that the Princess had actually come through Bayville in disguise a few months back and nobody had known. The Count of Transia had been sent by the King to look for the wayward Samantha and had happened to meet Tabitha Smith instead.

Marie listened and sighed. Interesting things did seem to happen, but always to someone else. Still, it would be good to see Bobby again.

May Day came. Celebration filled the streets from dawn onward. Raven left early, but Marie stayed behind to a few hats, singing in Norlish as she worked. Bobby was working too, after all- Daniels' was open until midnight on holidays. Marie made a mental note to buy one of their cream cakes when she arrived, she hadn't had one for ages.

She had felt really excited at the prospect of visiting Bobby for most of the day, but when she finally put on a shawl and went out, all Marie felt was overwhelmed. There were too many people, too much noise, too much jostling. It was as if the months of sitting and sewing had turned her into a semi-invalid or an old woman.

She gathered her shawl around her and crept along close to the houses, trying to avoid being trodden on by people's best shoes or jabbed by elbows in trailing silk sleeves. When there came a sudden series of bangs from somewhere overhead, Marie thought that for the first time in her life, she might actually faint.

Glancing up, she saw the Wizard Gambit's castle right down on the hillside above the town, so close it seemed to be sitting on the chimneys. Blue flames were shooting out of all four of the castle's turrets, bringing blue balls of fire with them that exploded high in the sky. Wizard Gambit seemed to be offended by May Day- or maybe he was trying to join in in his own fashion. Either way, Marie was too terrified to care. She would have gone home except that she was halfway to Daniels' by then, so she ran.

" _What_ made me think I wanted life to be interesting?!" She demanded of thin air as she went. "I'd be far too scared. Comes from being the eldest of three, probably..."

She reached Market Square and it was worse if possible. Crowds of young men swaggered drunkenly to and fro, calling slurred remarks and accosting girls. The girls strolled in pairs, ready to be accosted. It was perfectly normal for May Day, but now that scared Marie too. And when a young man in rich purple and muted green spotted Marie and tried to accost her as well, Marie shrank into a shop doorway and tried to hide.

The young man looked at her in surprise. "'S all right, lil mouse," he said, laughing, and Marie found herself momentarily thrown by the way he spoke.

His accent was like hers, and yet it wasn't. It was much more audible than hers was, and she somehow doubted he'd ever tried to suppress it the way she did. She would have assumed he was a southeastern native, except that she had _heard_ the way natives spoke, and it wasn't like that. The drawl was there, but it was slower. The words were much more relaxed, with an odd lilt to them that might have suggested Norlish, but she wasn't sure.

And then he was saying something again, and Marie came back to herself in time to hear "I only wanna buy you a drink, chere. No need t'look so scared."

His expression was so pitying that in an instant Marie's fear was replaced with indignance. Who did this dressed up _boy_ think he was? He was good looking, certainly, with high cheekbones and a lot of brown hair framing his face- but now that he was up close she could clearly see that he was barely older than she was.

Drawing herself up, she collected every scrap of dignity she could salvage before replying with chilling politeness. "No thank you, if you please sir. I'm on my way to see my brother."

"Den by all means," he spread his hands in a gesture of surrender, seeming more amused than cowed by her attempts to rebuff him. "Who'm I t'keep a pretty lady from her brother? Assumin' he won' get de wrong idea, I'll even walk you there, if you want- since you seemed so scared."

He probably meant it kindly, but his words and his attitude and a return of the pitying look were all enough to send Marie's indignance into boiling rage. This was ridiculous. Everything about this situation was ridiculous. _She_ was ridiculous- or she felt like it anyway- and curse it all, it was _his fault_.

"No. No thank you, _sir,_ but _ah can manage just fine on mah own!"_

The accent came out before she could stop it. Marie could feel her face flaming, and the flabbergasted expression on the man's face told her there was no use in pretending it hadn't happened. Cursing both him and herself under her breath, Marie turned and fled, pushing her way between the little tables outside Daniels' before he could catch her.

Inside was packed, and as noisy as the Square. Gazing at a line of assistants at the counter, Marie squinted but couldn't seem to find Bobby. There was a group of farmer's daughters all shouting for a slight boy with a shock of blue-black hair taking up most of the view though, so it was possible she'd missed him.

Fighting her way to the counter, Marie saw the boy putting cakes into bags as fast as he could go, giving each bag a deft little twist and looking back under his own elbow with a grin and an answer for each bag he twisted. Then he looked up and saw her.

For a moment, he looked shaken. Then his eyes widened and he gave her a strangely familiar smile, shouting "MARIE!" over the noise.

"Can ah- _I!-_ I mean... where's- IS MY BROTHER HERE? I WANT TO TALK TO HIM!" Marie bawled back over the roar. This boy had known her by sight- surely he must know Bobby.

"JUST A MOMENT!" The boy screamed back. He tapped the girl next to him and whispered something, making her grin and replace him at the counter.

"You'll have to have me instead. Who's next?"

"But I wanted to talk to _him!"_ One of the farm girls called plaintively.

"Talk to Jube! You'll like her, honest!" Grabbing Marie by the wrist, the blue haired boy pulled her back behind the counter and into a room filled with rack upon rack of cakes and pulling out two stools.

"Here," he offered her a cream cake. "Sit down."

"I'd really rather not," Marie lied. Her feet hurt and she felt exhausted from being afraid and running. "I just want to see my brother. You know him, I think- Bobby Logan? He's here, isn't he?"

Until this moment, the blue haired boy had moved with an easy self assurance, definite confidence, but not enough to be offensive. It seemed to shrink now as he looked at her nervously.

"Um... I, I think you should really sit down-"

"Please?" Marie asked tiredly before giving up and slumping onto a stool. "I just need to talk to him, it'll only take a minute, I promise I won't keep him long..."

The last of the boy's confidence seemed to desert him. "You should really try the cake first-" he began, his voice almost a squeak.

Marie lost her temper. "I don't WANT cake! I don't want cake, I don't want to sit down, I just want to talk to Bobby and-"

"No, that's the trouble," the boy sat down on the stool opposite hers, looking horribly guilty.

"You see- well, _I'm_ Bobby."

 **You never realize just how long and dry the beginning chapters of this book are until you start writing them out for something stupid like this.**


	2. In Which Marie Seeks Her Fortune

"No, you're not!" Marie didn't bother hiding her incredulity at such a bald-faced lie.

"Not exactly." The boy agreed uncomfortably.

"You don't even look like him!"

"Definitely not," he agreed again, lifting one finger in the air in a 'Just a moment' gesture. "But Mrs. Daniels is half blind and the other learners didn't grow up here. They never knew Bobby, so-"

"I hope," Marie interrupted icily, eyes narrowed. "That you aren't telling me you decided to impersonate my brother to get his apprenticeship. Because if you are, and if you've done anything to him, I _SWEAR_ -"

There was a distinct _BAMF_ sound and a puff of brimstone scented smoke, and suddenly Bobby's impostor was not in front of her but standing at her side.

"Bobby can't do that," He reminded her modestly. "No one can except me. Unless you've met someone very interesting while I was gone, of course."

" _Kurt!"_ Marie gasped.

"In the flesh!" Kurt grinned at her, and all at once Marie could see her brother in this unfamiliar form. The smile, the hair, his strange loping grace... how had it not been obvious? "Which personally, I've found I much prefer to the fur."

Stunned, Marie took a bite of cream cake.

"I've been dreading you coming to see me," Kurt confessed, reappearing back on his stool. "Because I knew I'd have to tell you. It's a relief now I have. Please promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I won't." Marie murmured dazedly. "But why? _HOW?!"_

"Bobby and I arranged it," Kurt said, happily tapping out a staccato beat against the edge if the stool. "Because he wanted to learn witchcraft and I didn't. Bobby's got brains and he wants a future where he ca use them- only try telling that to Mother! She can't even bring herself to admit he _has_ brains- and you know he does, even when he doesn't act like it. Mother can be so spiteful sometimes."

Marie wasn't sure the Raven he spoke of was the same Raven she knew, but she let it pass. "But what about you?"

"Eat your cake, it's good. Oh yes, I can be clever too, when I feel like it. It only took me two weeks at Miss MacTaggert's to find the spell we're using. I got up at night and read her books secretly, and it was really easy! Then I just asked if I could go visit my family, and she said yes. She thought I was homesick, she's wonderful, really. Anyway, I took the spell and came here and Bobby went back pretending to be me- and I worked something out for myself, too."

Marie thought Kurt's face might split in two, the way he was smiling. "Bobby gave them a different name, you see- so when I showed up and said _I_ was Bobby, they just assumed I came later than expected and nobody gave it a second thought. And Bobby's clearly fine if Miss MacTaggert hasn't kicked him out, so everyone wins!"

"But what made you decide to do this?" Marie demanded, setting the cake down. "Bobby I understand, but why would you..." She broke off, staring at him.

Before this very strange evening, she had never seen Kurt blush, nor had she ever expected to. The fur covering his face had always made that impossible.

In his new, more human form, however, she could see his fair skin slowly but steadily gathering a faint red tinge from the tips of still slightly pointed ears and traveling down to his cheeks. He seemed somewhat aware of this, and spent a few moments trying in vain to find a subtle way to shield his face before giving up and looking Marie in the eye, embarrassment ignored.

"I don't want to seek my fortune. I never did. I just want to get married, and... well, maybe have a child someday. Maybe. Not if they had to live like I did, but... I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it a lot."

"You're not old enough!" was somehow the first thing that left Marie's mouth, and she could have smacked herself. Kurt didn't seem to mind though, returning to his rhythm, face now a dusky pink.

"Well, not yet. I didn't mean _now_. Besides, I wanted enough time to tell if the person I want likes me for being me- Marie!"

Marie was very much regretting having another bite of cream cake. Waving Kurt off as she managed to finish choking, she took a few lungfuls of air before looking back up at him.

"'The person you want'?"

"Oh no."

"Kurt, are you seeing somebody?"

"Stop it."

"How long? Is there a name? I'm your only sister-"

"Marie!"

"And your oldest sibling, I deserve a name, Kurt!"

" _We are not talking about her."_

"So it's a girl, then?"

Kurt looked horrified with himself before burying his now scarlet face in his hands, and Marie found herself laughing for the first time all night.

"Marriage and a child, huh?" She asked after they had each taken a moment to collect themselves. Kurt shrugged, resting his chin on his fist.

"It's just what I want."

"I never knew!"

"Well, it's not like I could go on about it when you were so busy backing Mother up about making my fortune! I know everyone's expecting me to do something amazing, or be someone extraordinary, but honestly- normal's all I ever wanted. And all Bobby ever wanted was to be special. So we fixed it, and we're fine now, but... truthfully, we both feel bad about you."

"Me?" Marie repeated, taken aback.

"Yes, you. You're far too clever and nice to be stuck in that shop for the rest of your life. We talked about it, but we couldn't see what to do."

"I'm all right," Marie protested. "Just a bit dull."

"All right?" Kurt exclaimed incredulously. "Yes, you prove you're all right by not coming here for months, and then turning up in a frightful gray dress and shawl looking as if even _I_ scare you! What's Mother been _doing_ to you?!"

"Nothing," Marie said uncomfortably. "We've been rather busy. You shouldn't talk about Raven that way, Kurt. She _is_ your mother."

"Yes, and I'm enough like her to understand her." Kurt retorted. "That's part of why she sent me so far away- or tried to, anyway. Mother knows you don't have to be unkind to someone to exploit them. She knows how dutiful you are. She knows you've got this thing about being a failure because you're the eldest. She's managed you perfectly, and got you slaving away for her. I bet she doesn't even pay you."

"I'm still an apprentice," Marie argued.

"So am I, but I get a wage. The Daniels know I'm worth it." Kurt crossed his arms. "The hat shop is making a _mint_ these days, and it's all because of you! You made that green hat that makes the Mayor's wife look like a schoolgirl, didn't you?"

"Caterpillar green. I trimmed it." Marie mumbled.

"And the bonnet Tabitha Smith was wearing when she met that nobleman," Kurt swept on. "You're a genius with hats and clothes, and Mother knows it. Now you earn the money while she goes off gadding-"

"She's doing the buying."

"Buying!" Kurt snorted. His finger tapping increased in tempo. "That takes half a morning. I've seen her Marie, I've heard the talk. She's off in a hired carriage and new clothes, visiting all the mansions down the valley! They're saying she's going to buy that big place down at Vale End and set up in style. And where are you?"

"Well, Raven's entitled to some happiness after bringing us up." Marie said. "I suppose I'll inherit the shop."

"What a fate!" Kurt pulled a face. "Listen-"

But at that moment two empty cake racks were pulled away at the other end of the room, and an apprentice stuck her head through from the back.

"Thought I heard your voice, Bobby!" She said, grinning. "The new baking's up. Tell them."

Her head, curly and somewhat floury, disappeared again. She seemed nice, Marie thought. She wondered if this was the girl Kurt really liked, but didn't get a chance to ask. Kurt sprang up in a hurry, still talking.

"I'll need the others to help carry these to the shop. Help me with this one." He dragged out the nearest rack and Marie helped him bring it into the busy shop.

"You have to do something about yourself, Marie," Kurt panted as they went. "Bobby kept saying he didn't know what would happen to you when we weren't around to give you some self respect. He was right to be worried."

In the shop, Mrs. Daniels seized the rack from them, yelling instructions, and a line of people rushed past Kurt to fetch more. Marie yelled goodbye and slipped away into the bustle. It didn't seem right to take up more of Kurt's time, and she wanted to be alone to think.

She thought and thought for most of the following week and all that happened was that she became confused and discontented. She had misunderstood Bobby and Kurt for years. But she couldn't bring herself to believe that Raven was the kind of woman Kurt described.

There was a lot of time for thinking because Bessie duly left to be married and Raven did seem to be out a lot, gadding or otherwise. After three days, Marie screwed up her courage and forced herself to ask Raven for a wage.

"Of course love, with all you do!" Raven answered absentmindedly, fixing on a rose trimmed hat in the store mirror. "We'll see about it after I've done the accounts this evening."

Then she went out and didn't come back until Marie had shut the shop and taken the days hats up into the house to trim.

Marie at first felt mean to have listened to Kurt, but when Raven didn't mention a wage that evening, or any time later that week, she began to wonder if he'd been right.

"Maybe I _am_ being exploited," she told a hat she was trimming. "But _someone_ has to do this, or there'll be no hats at all to sell." She finished the hat, then started on a stark black and white one when a new thought came to her.

"Does... does it matter if there are no hats to sell?" She asked it. She looked around at the assembled hats waiting to be trimmed.

"What good are you all?" She asked them, and was surprised to discover she was genuinely upset. "You certainly aren't doing me a scrap of good!"

And she was within an ace of leaving the house and setting out to seek her fortune before she remembered she was the eldest and there was no point. Feeling rather discouraged, she sighed and took up the hat again.

She was still discontented, alone in the shop next morning when a very plain young woman stormed in, whirling a mushroom pleated bonnet by its ribbons.

"Look at this!" The customer shrieked. "You told me this was the same as the bonnet Tabitha Smith was wearing when she met the Count. And you lied! Nothing happened to me at all!"

"Ah'm not surprised," Marie snapped before she could stop herself. "If you're fool enough ta wear that bonnet with a face like _that_ you wouldn't have the wits ta spot the King himself if he came beggin'- if he hadn't turned ta stone first just at the sight of you!"

The young lady gaped as if Marie had slapped her. Then she threw the bonnet in Marie's face and stormed out.

Panting a little, Marie crammed the bonnet into the wastebasket. The rule was: Lose your temper, lose a customer. She had just proven that rule. What troubled her was how much she had enjoyed it.

She had no time to recover. There was the sound of wheels and hooves and suddenly a carriage was darkening the window. The shop bell clanged, and the grandest customer Marie had ever seen sailed in.

She had a sable wrap drooping from her elbows and diamonds winking all over her dense black dress, but the first thing Marie's eyes went to was her hat- real ostrich plume dyed to reflect the pinks and greens and blues winking in the diamonds yet still look black. This was a wealthy hat.

The woman's face was carefully beautiful. The golden hair made her seem young, but...

Unnerved and unsure why, Marie's eyes took in the young woman following the lady in- a petite, plain-faced girl with chestnut hair. She was quite well dressed, but pale and obviously upset. She stared at Marie with a kind of beseeching horror. She was clearly much younger than her beautiful companion, leaving Marie puzzled as to their relationship.

"Miz Logan?" The older woman asked in a relaxed drawl.

"Yes?" Marie asked. The smaller girl looked more upset than ever. Perhaps the lady was her sister, or... was she old enough to be the girl's mother?

"I hear you sell de mos' heavenly hats," said the lady. "Show me."

Marie did not trust herself to speak in her present mood. She went and got out the hats. None of them were in this lady's class, but she could feel the young girl's eyes following her and that made her uncomfortable. The sooner the girl's... mother? Sister? Employer?... discovered the hats were wrong for her, the sooner the odd pair would go. She followed Raven's advice and brought out the wrongest first.

The lady began rejecting hats instantly.

"Dimples," she murmured to the pink bonnet, then "Youth" to the caterpillar green one. Then to the one of twinkles and veils, with a condescending sort of chuckle that grated on Marie's nerves "Mysterious allure. How very obvious. What else you got?"

Marie got out the modish black and white, which was the only hat even remotely likely to interest this woman. The lady looked at it with contempt.

"Dis one doesn' do anytin' for anybody. Don' waste my time Miz Logan."

" _You're_ the one who came in an' asked fer hats," Marie said, patience long gone. "This's a small hat shop in a small town, ma'am. Why'd you even-" Behind the lady, the brunette gasped and seemed to be trying to signal warningly.

"-bother comin' in?" Marie finished, wondering what was going on.

The lady smiled, but all amusement had left her face. It had a frightening effect, making her beautiful and terrible at the same time.

"I always bother when someone tries t'set demselves up agains' de Witch of de Waste. I've heard a you, Miz Logan, an' I don' care for your competition or your attitude. I came to put a stop to you."

She moved suddenly, spreading her fingers out in a flinging motion towards Marie's face. Marie flinched before realizing there had been nothing in the woman's hand.

"You mean _you're_ the Witch of the Waste?" Marie's voice seemed to have been affected by fear and astonishment. It sounded strange in her ears.

"I am. An' let dat teach you t'meddle with things dat belong t'me." The woman was still smiling that cold, cheerless smile.

"I... Ah don't think ah did. There must be some mistake." Marie croaked out. The brunette was now staring at her in utter horror, though Marie couldn't see why.

"No mistake, Miz Logan." said the Witch. "Come, Maddie." She turned and swept to the shop door. While the girl was timidly opening it for her, she turned back to Marie.

"By de way... you won' be able t'tell anyone you're under a spell."

Then the shop door tolled like a funeral bell, and the Witch was gone.

Marie put her hands to her face, wondering in a detached sort of way what the girl had been staring at, then stopped, feeling soft, leathery wrinkles.

With a sinking feeling, she looked slowly down at her hands. They were wrinkled too, and skinny, with large veins in the back and knuckles like knobs. She pulled her gray skirt against her legs and looked down at her skinny ankles and feet which had made her shoes go all knobbly. They were the legs of someone about ninety, and they seemed to be real.

Marie got herself to the mirror with a sense of rising panic that only increased when she discovered she had to hobble. Then she caught sight of herself and stopped, uncomprehending.

For a moment, the room seemed to spin. Nothing made sense. She felt hot, then cold, and there was blackness creeping at the side of her vision. And then she had come back to herself and found herself staring at a gaunt old woman in the mirror.

The face in the mirror was withered and brownish, and surrounded by whispy white hair. The eyes, _her eyes_ , were yellow and watery, and they stared out at her looking rather tragic.

"Well," Marie said finally, and was rather proud when her voice didn't shake. "Don't worry, you old thing. You look quite healthy. 'Sides, this's much more like you really are."

Now that she had finished panicking, she found herself thinking about her situation quite calmly. She wasn't even particularly angry at the Witch of the Waste.

"Of course ah'll have ta do fer her when ah get the chance," Marie mumbled to herself. "But meanwhile, if Bobby n' Kurt can stand bein' each other, ah can stand bein' like this. But ah can't stay here. Raven'd have a fit. Let's see... this gray dress'll do, but ah'll need mah shawl n' some food."

She hobbled over to the shop door and carefully put up the _CLOSED_ sign. Her joints creaked as she moved, she had to walk bowed and slow, but she was relieved to discover she was quite a hale old woman. She didn't feel weak or old, just stiff.

She shambled in the direction of her shawl and wrapped it over her head, then through to the house, where she collected her purse and a parcel of bread and cheese. Then she let herself out of the house, hid the key in the usual place, and hobbled down the street.

Marie wondered briefly if she should go say goodbye to Kurt. She had a vague sense that she should, but the idea of Kurt not knowing her was unsettling. It was probably better to just go.

She'd write to them, Marie decided as she shuffled through the field where the fair had been, when she got to wherever she was going. To him and to Bobby. She'd tell them she was all right, and that she had had to leave because...

She paused, standing in the middle of an unfamiliar country road.

What _would_ she tell them? That she had taken time off due to stress? That she had gone to seek her fortune, status as eldest be damned? Or the truth, that she'd somehow managed to offend the Witch of the Waste and had been cursed for her unknown transgression?

Marie closed her eyes breathing in the warm spring air. No. She definitely couldn't do that. Kurt would be horrified, and Bobby would immediately throw all common sense out the window and go tearing off to try and avenge her, bless his idiotic little heart.

She would have to think of something else.


End file.
